Whatever I've Done
by amidoh
Summary: Dark Link only exists to do one thing: kill the Hero of Time. But when the actual moment arrives, can he bring himself to deliver the final blow? LinkxDark Link qwik!fic - fluffy one shot.


Disclaimer: I do not claim any rights to the characters mentioned in this story; I'm only borrowing them to play with.

* * *

I do not have a name. You may have heard of me as Dark Link. That is not my name, that is only a modification of his name. I was created to be a carbon copy of him; a soulless killing machine. The only other person I know or know of is my master, Ganondorf, the one who gave me life. It is by his creed I was programmed.

Destroy or be destroyed.

Failure is not an option.

Ruthlessness is your only strength.

My purpose – the entire reason I was made – was to destroy the Hero of Time. I was placed in a room in the Water Temple, dormant, awaiting my prey. At the time, my emotions were limited to what my master had taught me: anger, ruthlessness, violence and, to some extents, humility.

And then he came. The door opened and, against all my instincts, I found myself to be quite excited, anxious to see what this new person would be like, what this would reveal. I stared in wonderment at my mirror image, only a few differences between us, like his blonde hair and blue eyes. He looked around cautiously and his fairy spotted me as I approached.

He swung with the Master Sword, not speaking a word to me, to inquire whether I was friend or foe, and I found myself mirroring his moves, no free will of my own, created to be an exact likeness. There was a resounding clash as the metals collided and I felt a jolt in my chest, in my heart. I knew of the heart, of course, the place to aim if the throat was protected, but my own was racing at the thought that I might – that I could possibly –

Fear was not something that my master had taught me; it was considered a weakness, but I was afraid. Afraid that I would hurt the very person I was designed to kill.

Then, all so quickly, it was over. Link lay on his back on the floor, panting hard, my sword point at his throat. I could move my own muscles; my master was letting me finish the job on my own. I suppose I should have been proud that he was entrusting me with such an important task, but I could not do it. I could not press down, could not close that tiny gap to slay the man lying helplessly at my feet.

My sword fell from my grasp, which was limp and weak, and, overcome with horror at what I had almost done, I fell to all fours my Link's side. He heaved himself to his feet and, within an instant, the Master Sword was in front of my eyes and he stood over me, the positions completely reversed in a matter of seconds.

I rolled over on to my back, gripping his blade in both my hands, unconscious of the deadly metal slicing in to the rough, scarred flesh, and pressed the point to my own throat, trembling.

"Kill me, Link," I whispered, my eyes tight shut. "Save me from my master. Save me from his wrath. Please, Link..."

I emitted a strangled sob as Link withdrew his sword, and opened my eyes to see the expression of puzzlement resting on his lips – oh, his lips! A small cry escaped my own, I was not used to emotion so strong.

"Who are you?" He demanded suspiciously.

"I – I don't know..." I admitted after a moment's hesitation, still shaking, an occasional dry sob torn from my throat every now and again. "I was... created to destroy you... but I can't – I don't want – "

The next thing I knew, Link was helping me to my feet, his hands holding my own. Blood rushed to my usually pale face at the simple contact and he raised an eyebrow.

"What do you want, then?" He asked gently. Tenderly. I felt a strange prickling behind my eyes as tears began to overflow and spill down my gaunt cheeks. Oh, if my master could see me now!

"I – I – I... w-want to h-hold you against m-my chest..." I sobbed, stammering the words out. "What's wrong with me? I have never felt like this before! What have you done?" I turned my wild, tearful eyes on to his.

"I have done nothing." He answered calmly, placing my hands on his torso and covering them with his own. "You have done something, though. You have fallen in love."

"Love?" I questioned, staring at the place his hands enveloped mine. "A form of torture?"

He smiled then, a strange upward quirk of the mouth, which my master would only do when he was feeling particularly cruel or vindictive. I cringed away, expecting him to lash out and strike me, as my lord would often do when he smiled.

"No." He answered at last, gazing at me, seemingly slightly puzzled at my reactions to his facial expression. I relaxed a little.

"It hurts..." My voice was barely audible, but he heard every syllable I uttered.

"It can hurt." He murmured softly, clutching me closer to his body, his hands wrapped around my back. "but it can also be very pleasurable."

My hands were rooted on his chest and, letting his arms fall away from me, he bent his head forward and pressed his lips to one of my fingers. In inhaled in one long, shuddering gasp.

"My lord!" I whimpered, panting, I had not been taught what 'pleasure' was, but it felt beyond nice, making my heart beat faster and faster. "What -?"

"It's called a kiss." My other informed me kindly.

"It was... nice..." My own voice sounded, even to me, distant and strained, as though coming from far away.

"Really?" His eyes shone happily. Happiness. Another of my master's forbidden emotions.

I moaned as he withdrew. Didn't he know what he had just made me feel like? Couldn't he see that all I wanted was for him to do it again? It was such a... good feeling, such a strange feeling...

Suddenly, though, he pressed his mouth to mine, and if I thought the first kiss was pleasurable, then this was beyond pleasure. His soft, gentle lips met my dry, cracked ones, the moisture generated partially healing the splits and wounds that my creator had inflicted on me in his rages.

"Master!" I breathed as he pulled away to view my reactions, falling to my knees and kissing his shoes. Lord Ganondorf taught me humility so that I may worship him, and had taught me many ways to show respect to my betters.

"I'm not your master." He said quietly, slipping one hand beneath my chin and tilting my head up. "And I won't hurt you if you treat me like an equal instead of a superior. I'm not Ganondorf."

I gave a small, involuntary shudder when he said that name and buried my head into his waist, the material of his green tunic tickling my cheeks. He stroked my ebon hair with one hand; the other cradling me to him like a mother would a scared child.

He again helped me to my feet and, when he was sure I was stable, kissed me. I closed my eyes, completely overwhelmed by the onslaught of emotions he was uncovering inside me. One of his hands slid sensuously down my back and I gasped.

His tongue was in my mouth before I could comprehend, brushing over my teeth and around the inside of my cheeks. I opened my eyes in shock, but saw that his were still closed as he explored me, so I mimicked him, as the eager son will the kindly father.

His tongue withdrew from my mouth back into his own and beckoned mine to follow. I willingly complied, probing his mouth. Oh, the taste! I cannot begin to describe what he tasted like! It was so wonderful, so intoxicating... I was lost...

Again I felt tears trickling from my eyes, though I was not sad. There was a choking sound from Link and the kiss was severed. I could feel his tears mingling with my own – why was he crying?

"Forgive me..." he whispered against my mouth and, before I could open my eyes, the Master Sword plunged into my heart. My dying words were already on my lips, however, and came out in the final exhalation of breath from my body, like a whisper of wind over the bones of the dead.

"I love you, Link..."

* * *

I am safe in the knowledge that my death helped Link forward on his quest to eventually defeat my old master Ganondorf. All heroes must make sacrifices in their lives, and Link's sacrifice was me. He could not have saved the world with me alive, and the saving of one life is not as important as the saving of many. As far as I was concerned, though, he had already saved me, saved me from the darkness that had created me.

I know that as I fell limply to the ground and he withdrew his bloodstained sword from my chest, my treasure, the longshot, appeared for him to take, a lasting reminder of what had happened. My legacy.

I was created in his form and, to me, he was perfect. He is everything I am not; he is caring and kind while I was jaded and battle-scarred. He was the reason I was created and now he is the reason I no longer exist.

And I love him for it.


End file.
